Lagos shelter brings respite for LGBT+
LAGOS - When Muna and Mary moved in together in Nigeria’s Anambra state, they thought they were starting a new life. But that dream quickly became a nightmare for the trans man and his girlfriend after a barrage of insults from neighbours and threats of rape. They had no choice but to flee.
“It destroyed me, damaged my brain. We didn’t even know where to go.
I became suicidal,” said Muna, 26. Now the couple lives in a house that looks like any other in their gated community in a poor Lagos suburb. It is one of the few shelters for LGBT+ people in Nigeria’s economic capital, a rare haven that houses gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender men and women free of charge for up to six months. With Africa’s most populous country battling economic woes, high inflation and a weak naira currency, the shelter is a much-needed respite for the already marginalised LGBT+ community.
“It does mean a lot. We were in a dark place before. Here, we feel safe and really really loved,” Muna said. LGBT+ communities struggle in much of Africa, where many countries ban homosexuality. Ghana’s lawmakers are pushing an anti-LGBT law widely condemned by critics for undermining rights.
Nigeria, a highly religious, conservative country, passed a law against “same-sex marriage” in 2014. Homosexuality is punishable by 10 to 14 years in prison.
In practice, the law is rarely applied, but it has legitimised widespread intimidation and violence against the LGBT+ community. Africa’s most populous nation is divided between the predominantly Muslim North, where Sharia law is applied alongside the judicial system, and the predominantly Christian South, where the Church wields considerable influence. And as in much of Africa, homosexuality is often perceived as being imported from the West and contrary to local “values”. The Nigerian NGO La crème de la crème, which campaigns in particular for the rights of transgender people, provides the shelter, which consists of three rooms.
Next to Muna, in front of the open window, Mary, 25, laughs at the idea that her mother often asks whether she had offended God so much to deserve a lesbian daughter. “Almost everybody is homophobic,” she said. “Funny, the country is full of LGBT but we are forced to stay in the closet. If one of us is caught...”
In the refuge, mistrust and silence reign.
Everyone tells their story in a low voice, for fear of being overheard. The coordinator, Richard, 26, admits nobody speaks to each other. “You shouldn’t blame anybody. You don’t know what they’ve been through.
We make sure that they are at peace.” One word explains this climate of mistrust and fear in the Nigerian LGBT+ community: “Kito”.
It is a reference to the many photos, videos and stories of humiliations - and even worse - of gay Nigerians posted on social media. It is a common scamming practice by criminals who mainly target gay men by creating fake accounts on gay dating applications, mainly Grindr, and “trapping” a “target” by inviting them somewhere.
Once there, the victim is filmed, beaten, humiliated, insulted, sometimes raped and killed. Victims end up being forced to pay considerable sums. Diego, 29, says he feels “lucky” when he hears these stories. The young man in the blue polo shirt and long nails says he takes all the precautions and in particular waits “months” or even “years” to invite someone or make a move. “You must be invisible and be really cautious with people around you,” he said. Security forces and police are frequently accused of extortion and humiliation of the community. Nigeria preparing to elect a successor to president Muhammadu Buhari in February. But during campaigning, no candidate has even mentioned sexual and gender minorities.
Matthew Blaise, minority rights activist, said that is little surprise when gay people are often used as scapegoats for a lot of problems in Nigeria. “Don’t even talk about LGBTQ, I’m not so bothered, my mind is at least at peace.”
In Nigeria, nearly one in three inhabitants lives below the extreme poverty line and the country has been stung hard by the fallout from Russia’s invasion of Ukraine: high inflation and devaluation of the local currency. But some pockets of freedom exist, however, especially in Lagos, the tumultuous megalopolis of 20 million inhabitants, with its thriving nightlife and artistic and film scene. But minorities are marginalised and therefore particularly affected, Blaise said. “The LGBT+ community is on the threshold of this poverty.”